Morning at Madrina’s

This morning, I was emergency babysitter for my Goddaughter, Amelia May, who many of you know as The World’s Most Beautiful Baby. This represents an act of faith or desperation by her mother, because my parenting knowledge is about on par with a Kardashian’s. I still haven’t figured out how to change a diaper. The last time I was watching Amelia when a change was needed, I just gave up and declared “Naked Time”. That and a lot of towels seemed to work.

Then again, there is my famous — or infamous — contention that what works on terriers works on children. Yes, I’ve been known to give that Cesar Millan “shsssst” and leg tap to an unruly child. Gives me results.

So here I was watching Amelia this morning, while Mom was off on some much needed appointments. Luckily, I seem to live in a house that is Officially Certified Fun for Babies. Here’s some of the great stuff to do at our San Francisco digs:

First you have to put on your Mardi Gras beads. And ours is a household that realizes Mardi Gras beads should be available and accessible at all times.

Then you have to play Padrino's piano. Baby Mozart? Yes, clearly this child is gifted. Gifted, I tell you.

Then you need to program the new plate warmer. Especially since Madrina hasn't figured out how to do this yet. When you figure it out, Amelia, let me know.

Speaking of complicated electronics. Andy installed a digitized music system four years ago. I still don’t have the hang of it.

Amelia not only got it working, but pulled up all the Nancy Sinatra songs into a playlist.

Nancy Sinatra? DANCE! These crocs were made for walking...

At that point, we foolishly went out to the kiddie park. Big mistake. It was filled with those Self Righteous Super Mommies that San Francisco seems to be famous for. They clearly spotted me as an imposter since I showed up without juice boxes and three pieces of luggage. They weren’t fooled by the Stunt Kid I’d brought with me, either. After a few tears (not mine) we wisely went back to the house.

Just in time to catch the last five minutes of Sesame Street. The Elmo is always a sure bet for drying tears. There was just a moment of panic when the Sesame Street credits rolled. What to do now? Mothers, here’s a tip: The Dog Whisperer works almost as well as Elmo.

After all, it's got dogs in it. And as I say, "If it works for terriers..."

About The Author

Although I'd like to think of myself as a rootin', tootin', wine-makin' cowgirl, I currently only live in Sonoma part-time. Mostly I'm on freeways between San Jose and Sonoma. With two yapping terriers in crates behind me. We try to enjoy both places and points in between. Which will explain why my post subjects are all over the map.